Eric
by Nanaki BH
Summary: [JohnnyxEric] Johnny's greeted by someone from the past who he forgot amidst the confusion. [Implied slash.]


Disclaimer: _Johnny the Homicidal Maniac_ and all related characters and materials are property of Jhonen Vasquez and Slave Labor Graphics.

**Note:** This story is actually the sequel to my earlier story, _Sanguine._ I suggest reading that one first, though this one works well as a standalone, I suppose. And it's three years better, if you know what I mean.

Eric  
By: Nanaki BH

Every time my eyes start to close, I have to remind myself that sleep is bad. Sleep is what keeps me from living the way I want. I worry that if I close my eyes, that when I wake up in the morning, something will have changed. I mean, if I'm a different person, wouldn't that be great? It's scary in a way but I know that's what would be best for me. I fear, though, that when I open my eyes in the morning or the middle of the night or whatever, that something I don't want to change will and that it'll be irreversible.

I don't know if it's even anything specific; it might just be some sort of irrational thought I have. Whatever it might be, it's what keeps me awake. I think I'm losing too much sleep. During the day, I don't think about what I'll miss if I'm not awake because that threat just isn't there. It's all in my head like a kid who's afraid of the boogeyman.

I feel so stupid and immature sometimes. I lay there at night, worrying about impossible shit and eventually I can't fucking take it anymore. About then, I throw back the sheets, curse myself for even trying, and get out of bed. And that's been going on for three straight days without me ever falling asleep. Unconsciousness just seems so scary.

Life without the wall, without the doughboys, has been a lot more relaxing. Still, I'm not perfect. I'm not entirely sane but I can recognize it this time. I'm on the fast track to repair and I know I'll be cured when the Bub's Burger guy stops talking to me. I really wish he would because he's pretty damn annoying. He's like Mr. Eff, just a bit happier, a little more cynical, and totally makes me want to tear what remains of my hair out from my head.

So… It was the middle of the night. Things were a little bit shaky. Literally; my vision was starting to go. I left all of my lights off in the house, save for the kitchen. That might've be the only light bulb that worked in the whole place, actually. I wouldn't have doubted it. I could've always bought some new bulbs from the store but that would've probably involved killing the cashier. I do that too often, too. (Though they've been killed by other causes, too. Sometimes it's not even my fault – I swear!) I've got to learn to restrain myself; keep that sort of thing in.

Under the dim, hardly sufficient light of the kitchen, I opened my refrigerator and decided to take a look around. All of those 24/7 stores had to be open but I didn't want to leave. Going out sounded like a really bad idea as far as I was concerned; far too many bad things, I think. All I needed was a snack; something to tide me over until I would pass out from sleep deprivation. I was hot and tired and hungry and I knew I would be wishing soon that I could kill myself again without the same complications.

And _goddamn_ it, why wasn't there anything in my fridge besides spoiled milk? I took it out and took a cautious sip. I expected to vomit or something but… nothing. It really wasn't half bad. The things you hear about spoiled milk tasting disgusting? All untrue. I'd previously promised Mr. Samsa that I would let him go about his pure, roachy life, but I couldn't deny that he would've made a good cornflake substitute if I crushed him.

Or at least, that's what my sleep deprived mind wanted to think. I would later find out that eating cockroaches is dumb and gross. Fresh lettuce is crisper _and_ it tastes better. I must remind myself again to buy new lettuce.

I sat around at the table for what felt to be a really long time. For all I knew, it was actually only a couple minutes but my mind was so tired and it felt like time was stretching on. It was unnerving. My clock got destroyed when the universe ate itself, so I couldn't be sure what the time was. Didn't matter much when I had the sun and the moon outside. So, getting tired of my half-empty carton of milk, I got up and decided to go outside.

I didn't get very far. I had opened the fridge to put the milk back in and before I even straightened back up, I felt a hand touch my shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed and instinctively grabbed the person's arm, thrust a hand behind their head and slammed their head straight into the opposite refrigerator door. The offender collapsed right on the spot, holding his injured forehead in his palms. He looked strangely familiar but his face was obscured. My heart was beating so fast. I hated being touched; I couldn't stand it. It was bothering me, though, how familiar he looked.

I stepped around him, carefully inspecting him. He leaned back and I could see his face; eyes closed and moaning something about his face. God, he was so familiar. Maybe it was because he reminded me of some of the people I had killed; loud and whiny. He had that typical goth look and I could only imagine the countless faces like his I had torn off.

"Who are you and do you know whose house you've unfortunately walked into?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

He stopped whining and turned around to look up at me. Predictably, he appeared to be intimidated. The pieces of my fractured humanity that I'd collected since Hell inspired some sympathy within me and requested that I kindly not kill him. Still, he broke into my house. I had my right to some fucking self-defense. Whatever happened to that? Well? **_Well!_**

Aw, screw it. I was way too tired to kill him. I relaxed, my arms loosely falling to my sides. If he was going to run I would give him his time.

"J-Johnny?" he said shakily, making it slowly to his feet. He knew me? "Don't you remember me, Johnny? It's Sanguine. You know – Eric; the vampire. Well… except not. I mean, I want to be. Remember? You promised you would help me if I helped you but…"

"Sweet God! Please don't tell me you killed anybody!"

Eric stumbled back some at my outburst, a frown appearing on his face. What'd he think I was going to do? Kill him? Not that I wasn't thinking about it, though. I just didn't want other people ending up the way I was. Or am. The first time I met him, I remember, I was horrified that he admired me, yet I knew that a person like him would have no problem finding me people worthy of the wall.

I dared him to kill for me when I put that knife in his hand but I knew he wouldn't have the guts to do it. Having him stab me was a bad idea. Ever after that, a part of my mind was itching to know whether or not he was actually crazy enough to do something that stupid. Like I needed another thing to worry about.

"I, well, I didn't kill anybody," he stuttered nervously. I congratulated myself on being correct, yet that didn't keep me from feeling relieved. "There were a lot of people who I wrote down for you and why. I figured you might need some explanations. I sat around for a really long time, wondering what happened to you. You told me that you would come find me but… was it all just a joke?"

"The wall? I assure you, the wall was no joke. I wish it were a joke." I crossed the room to one of the wrecked walls and placed a palm down on it in an almost affectionate manner. Some of the plaster fell from one of its open "wounds". I had barely been living in that house and it was already falling apart because of what lived in that damn wall in the basement. Even more had been destroyed but it was restored by then without anybody ever knowing the difference.

"So where've you been? I finally found _you_ but here you are in this totally messed up house. Did something happen?"

"I guess you could say something like that," I said. If you can call going to Hell and back "something", I guess. "It's nothing I particularly want to talk about. I hope you don't mind if I keep it to myself. Though…" My thoughts began to trail. Come to think of it, I really _had_ forgotten about him. It wasn't intentional but with so much else going on, how could anybody possibly blame me? Eric raised an eyebrow at me curiously, wondering what else I had to say. I waved it off. "It's nothing," I explained. "Nothing at all."

Eric remained crestfallen. I admit, I felt sort of bad. Typically, I hate those people; the ones who can't find the ability in their tiny, peanut-shaped brain to discern the real world from fiction. Eric just wanted to be happy, though. Was it really my place to assume how he was treated at home and at school? Ultimately, no, but I could still speculate. Maybe, just maybe, he'd experienced big let downs before. _So what's another let down? _My pesky thoughts nagged me into asking.

"So… are you used to this sort of thing…? I mean, not getting your way and all. Does that happen often?"

"So you're saying that you can't help me now? Yeah… That's fine. I understand. I just thought that you would be different."

"…Devi?" Although he had already turned to leave me then, his attention was brought back to me by my interjection. I looked up, unaware that I had even said anything at all. My mind, my body just froze up. Before I knew it, he was walking away again. She was walking away again. I didn't want somebody to walk away again. I couldn't control myself as I rushed forward and grabbed him from behind, holding him against me.

Shocked, he stood still. So did I.

Was I actually touching somebody of my own volition? Was I _seriously_ holding him without caring? He could've probably felt my heart beating wildly against his back through my thin shirt. I felt so inexplicably frightened and disappointed in myself; I didn't want to be but I couldn't keep myself from him. Such warmth, though… My eyes slowly began to close and I found myself finally slipping into a comfortable place.

"NNY," I heard him say just before I passed out, "you're an okay guy… you know?"

I would figure out what to do about that vampire of his some other time. Clearly, I had more pressing matters to attend to. Like sleep.

Author's Notes: I don't know. It had no plot whatsoever. _Sanguine_ actually had a little bit of plot but this had zilch; absolutely nothing. I hope it was in character. The structure of it didn't thrill me but I think it was a direct product of trying to get things as in character as possible. I hope that didn't really ruin things. It should be nice, at least, to see Johnny acting in character, I hope. Eh. You tell me what you think. Feedback is welcome


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